Dirge

Most of the time they sat silent under the shelter of the bank; for the wind was colder, and the clouds closer and greyer; there was little sunshine, and in the distance the voices of the Ents at the Moot still rose and fell, sometimes loud and strong, sometimes low and sad, sometimes quickening, sometimes slow and solemn as a dirge.

Yet—as all things mourn awhile At fleeting blisses; E'en let us too; but be our dirge A dirge of kisses.

Tom Sevenstrings played a dirge for them on his woodharp, and Thoros implored the Lord of Light to roast their souls until the end of time.

-Dirge for Jamis on the Funeral Plain, from "Songs of Muad'Dib" by the Princess Irulan Leto stood in the foyer of his house, studying a note by the light of a single suspensor lamp.

But the unquarreled evening hung like the first note of a dirge in sullenly expectant air.

2 As I wend to the shores I know not, As I list to the dirge, the voices of men and women wreck'd, As I inhale the impalpable breezes that set in upon me, As the ocean so mysterious rolls toward me closer and closer, I too but signify at the utmost a little wash'd-up drift, A few sands and dead leaves to gather, Gather, and merge myself as part of the sands and drift.

This noble war in the sky elevated my spirits; I clasped my hands, and exclaimed aloud, "William, dear angel! this is thy funeral, this thy dirge!"

The rich voices of Africa wailed up to them their jungle dirge.

The spectre, after listening for a moment, joined in the mournful dirge; and floated out upon the bleak, dark night.

From afar off, Father, from afar off!" the woman began in a singsong voice as though she were chanting a dirge, swaying her head from side to side with her cheek resting in her hand.

I should be afraid of the innumerable night of fir trees, afraid to come upon a blood red cup and the bearing of the wings of the Eagle. —The Napoleon of Netting Hill, G. K. Chesterton If ever thou gavest hosen or shoon Then every night and all Sit thou down and put them on And Christ receive thy soul This aye night, this aye night Every night and all Fire and fleet and candlelight And Christ receive they soul If ever thou gavest meat or drink Then every night and all The fire shall never make thee shrink And Christ receive thy soul —The Lyke Wake Dirge (traditional) PROLOGUE The night before he went to London, Richard Mayhew was not enjoying himself.

And now it is the time; from Hell's abyss Come thirsting Tantalus, come Sisyphus Heaving the cruel stone, come Tityus With vulture, and with wheel Ixion come, And come the sisters of the ceaseless toil; And all into this breast transfer their pains, And (if such tribute to despair be due) Chant in their deepest tones a doleful dirge Over a corse unworthy of a shroud.